


Never Say Never

by icarus_chained



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Comrades in Arms, Courage, Ficlet Collection, Fighter Pilots, Fights, Flying, Growing Up, M/M, Prompt Fic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarus_chained/pseuds/icarus_chained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Rhodes/Tony Stark. Free-fall, Lightning, Chocolate, Dancing, Never. Portrait of a life and a relationship lived in free-fall. (5 ficlets)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Say Never

**Free-fall**

Tony Stark, some people were of the opinion, was the kind of man who could jump out of an airplane without a parachute, and find a way to invent one before he hit the ground. A life lived in free-fall, playing chicken with the ground. 

They weren't necessarily wrong, Rhodey thought, his altimeter screaming cheerfully at him as he plunged earthwards after the man, letting out an explosive breath and a few snarled curses as the red armour jinked upwards less than forty feet above the pavement. No, he thought. Hitting the Iron Man at speed and whirling them both back skywards, with Tony laughing giddily in his arms. They weren't wrong, those people.

They just probably didn't realise how often Tony took that assertion _literally_.

 

**Lightning**

The base of the crater stank of ozone, a welter of heat and glass and scorched air, ground zero for a lightning strike that could have killed a _god_ , let alone a man. The radios were shot, the HUD flickering fitfully, wrapped in silence from the ringing in his ears.

Tony hit the ground at speed, his faceplate flipping up before he was even properly down, voice shouting hoarsely and eyes scanning the ground purely on autopilot. Fuck, fuck, shit and fuck. " _Rhodey_!"

And then, a grey shape moving higher up the incline, a metal arm waving lazily in the air, and through the ringing in Tony's ears ...

"You know, if I hadn't already stolen this thing, I'd be giving it some real thought right about now." Rhodey grinned up at him, the War Machine faintly scorched around the edges, his teeth shockingly white as he smiled. "Stark Tech. Accept no substitutes, yeah?"

His breath whooshed out of him in a rush, and Tony dropped to his knees alongside him, grinning stupidly himself. "You said it," he agreed, and wrapped his armoured hand around Rhodey's.

 

**Chocolate**

For some reason, as Tony flopped down on his chest and he waited for his brain to boot back up and his breathing to settle back down, Rhodey found himself watching their hands. Looking out to the side, Tony's head rising and falling with their shared breathing in the corner of his vision, he studied the way their fingers curled together, light on dark on light on dark, palm to palm beside them.

After a breathless second, eyes dark and shining, Tony followed his gaze. His expression going dark and soft, and a crooked smile creeping forward over the stunned delight of before.

"Make one crack about chocolate and vanilla, and I'm dumping you off this bed," Rhodey warned softly. And smiled ruefully, trying to pretend his other arm hadn't tightened faintly around Tony's waist to give the lie of it. Tony grinned, and tucked his face into Rhodey's chest.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured softly, his breath tickling Rhodey's throat. "But for the record?" A soft laugh, warm and bemused. "Chocolate all the way, baby."

 

**Dancing**

"Come on, honey bear," Tony grinned, standing on the edge of the dance floor, in his immaculate tux, with his dark eyes and his wry, confident grin. Holding out a hand to Rhodey, not giving a damn that the entire goddamn ballroom was staring surreptitiously at them. "When it comes down to it, you can always blame me." His grin turned crooked. "I'm Tony Stark, remember? Just say you were humouring me. I'm pretty sure they'll believe it."

And Rhodey thought briefly about the press, he thought about the brass, he thought about DADT, he thought about Pepper. He thought about college and scrappy geniuses who were too damn young and too damn stupid and too damn _brave_. He thought about deserts and arc reactors and blood in the sand. He thought about armours and flying and free-fall. He thought about all of that.

And then ... he reached out a hand, pulling Tony close on the edge of the floor, the kind of embrace that really couldn't be called 'humouring' at all. Rhodey pulled Tony close, and smiled softly into Tony's blank look of surprise.

"One of these days, Tony," he murmured, holding the man close, brushing his lips over Tony's temple. "One of these days ... I'm gonna get you to listen to me on the subject of taking responsibility."

 

**Never**

Ain't no such thing as never. Rhodey's mom had told him that. 

When he was a kid, and came home bruised and angry, with skinned knuckles and the conviction that nothing was ever going to go right for him. When he'd phoned her up in college to rant about the scrappy kid who was making his life a _nightmare_ , growling about how he was never talking to the son of a bitch again. When he'd called from the academy, exhausted and depressed and about done in, saying he never should've tried this in the first place. When he'd visited her on leave, and told her about Afghanistan, and how he never should have let his friend out of his sight. When he'd flown down with his life falling apart around his ears, to tell her he'd stolen something he'd never thought he'd steal, and betrayed someone he'd never believed he could betray. When he'd rung her up, to tell her how someone he'd never thought could forgive him had come back to fight by his side.

All those times he'd told her, over the course of his life, that there were things he was never going to give up, or things he was never going to be able to bear, or things that were never going to go his way, or things he was never going to be able to do, or things he never believed he'd be able to have.

Ain't no such thing as never, she'd told him. Soft and gentle, or brutally direct, or just a soft murmur of hope down the line. Ain't no such thing as never. Not for anything.

Watching the flash of red-and-gold in his peripheral vision, listening to the giddy laugh over the HUD and the roar of the repulsors in his ears ... Rhodey figured he ought to call her again some time soon. 

And tell her, yet again, that she was right.


End file.
